Horn and Hammer

by Lancer

Chapter Twenty Six- Flickering Flames

Chapter Twenty Six- Flickering Flames

Sat in a familiar well lit chamber, the leaders of the Royal Equestrian Army gathered once more. These meetings had become commonplace over the last few days as events progressed. The chamber had undergone a few changes as its constant use had prompted its development to a proper campaign room. A new wooden table was in place, circular in shape and made from aged oak. In laid was a map of Equestria, the geography had been presented to scale on the model with mountain ranges and settlements being the most notable features. Elsewhere the walls had been adorned with several maps and profiles of major figures in the griffon-khanine army; Chrysalis, the griffon king, Khan Rex and other notable leaders were displayed with brief descriptions as well as which troops they commanded and strengths and weaknesses.

Six beings sat around the table, four pony and two human. As was custom by now the princesses were present alongside Markus and Willhelm. The two generals of the Royal Equestrian Army were in attendance too; Bella Noctis and Shining Armor. Those who had them laid their weapons on the table.

Celestia was stood before the others, floating a bundle of scrolls out between each person. “Good day. Today I have a number of matters to bring to your attention. Matters are developing in Stalliongrad and Trottingham, I have accounts concerning both commanders for you all here” she said, indicating the scrolls. “Additionally scouts are reporting that the griffon and khanine armies have united just south of Neighagra Falls but are stalling there until provisions can catch up, there have already been a couple of smaller skirmishes between scouts and minimal casualties reported. At Hoofington many residents are refusing to evacuate and they lie twenty miles or so from the route to Canterlot, there’s a chance the allies will attack the settlement. Finally I am happy to say our forces are fully gathered and equipped, training is ongoing but every recruit has undergone basic training, we finally have a standing army, officers.” Celestia’s tone was authoritative and curt; the old, benevolent and kindly voice that was her custom was gone.

Bella Noctis spoke up first, snatching the floating scroll out of the air with his mouth, his fangs were surprisingly delicate on the paper unfurling it with his hooves with barely a mark. “What’s the order of business then princess?”

“If you would like to turn your attention to Huntsmarshall Granite’s report we will begin there general.”

---

---

Stalliongrad, Equestria

“Marshal! Marshal!”

With a weary sigh Granite was roused from her slumber. The door was almost buckling under the weight of the pony hammering on it. She pulled herself out of bed and threw on a set of furs before walking up to the door.

Granite pulled open the door, nearly receiving a hoof to the face as the panicked pony had continued to pound the door even as she opened it.

Immediately the biting cold wind rushed in revealing a startled, turquoise mare whose coat and mane were well wrapped up in fabric and overlaid with crude plates of metal cut to form rudimentary armour. It was night and Luna’s moon bathed the troubled militiapony in its silvery light.

“What” snarled Granite, rubbing a wary eye with a hoof.

“Their tunnelers are breaking through marshal. There’s not much time.” The mare frantically turned, looking around, taking in Granite’s undressed state.

“Stay right there” she growled and ducked back inside, frantically dressing and arming herself. The hunting knives were strapped, the tramplers donned and crossbow slung across her back. In a matter of moments she was dressed in her furs and flinging the door open. “Let’s go.”

A band of militia was waiting for her and led her on a gallop towards the curtain wall. A small shack had been constructed for the counter sappers to dig from in cover and against the grey backdrop of the wall and the black night sky the two torches to either side of the structure seemed to highlight the task at hoof.

“What’s the situation?” asked Granite hurriedly.

“We have twenty rangers in there in a small chamber the miners dug, waiting for the dogs. There’s not enough ventilation to pack more troops in marshal but a hundred militia have been called in as you requested and the wall sentries have been doubled” recited a unicorn stallion to her right, she was in too much of a rush to take in his appearance.

“Good” she replied, “join them and watch the entrance, attack if we don’t make it out. Do you understand comrades?”

“Yes ma'am!” yelled the militia and they peeled off out of sight.

Granite bounded down the stairs, past retreating miners and into the tunnel, it took only seconds to emerge into the chamber that had been described and she met up with her hunters. Indeed twenty well-armed hunters were waiting behind makeshift barriers with crossbows levelled.

“Who’s in charge here” she yelled, pushing to the front and drawing her own bow.

An older stallion, with grey eyes and black coat clad in thick furs spoke first “You now marshal, we just came down here because that was the plan.”

“Good. How long do we have?” her voice was curt and had an urgency which her ponies responded to eagerly.

Another pony from behind her shouted out, “a minute or so, can hear them scraping huntsmarshal.”

“Right.” Granite looked about, indeed debris was falling from the ceiling down the tunnel some fifteen metres away, the tunnel was narrow, enough for three ponies to fit abreast but the chamber they stood in was a full five metres wide and could fit eight ponies. She did not know what to expect but they had a strong position. “Form three ranks of seven, on my order front rank fires and kneels, second rank then fires and kneels and then the third rank, reload as you go ponies the enemy comes.”

On her cue the ceiling collapsed and grey blobs emerged, stumbling into the tunnel. The amorphous mass was obscured by the dust cloud billowing forth.

Her heart leapt in her chest, quelling her breathlessness she screamed a hoarse cry.

“Fire!”

She loosed her bolt and six more flew into the dust. Visceral yelps responded to the tune of whistling bolts and flesh being rent by steel. A bloody figure ambled forwards into sight, the dog’s paws clutched at the bolt embedded in its neck before collapsing to the ground.

“Down! Fire!”

Granite ducked and began to reload as a few bolts shot over her head, glancing back she saw two of her hunters had not fired, just staring awestruck at the sight of the corpse.

“Fire damn you!” With a kick of her hoof the two collected their senses and loosed.

“Down! Fire!”

The third rank fired and by then she had notched, cranked a bolt and rose. She quickly understood why two ponies had hesitated. Her plan had worked well.

A mess of tangled limbs, twisted corpses and mewling wounded littered the floor. The bodies had heaped up, forming a barrier to the dogs behind who still tried to clamber forward. There must have been at least ten dogs on the floor, most of which were dead. Blood from the first to fall had sprayed metres right up to the barricade and glistened under the arcanolight.

The dust had cleared and more dogs were coming, they snarled in their own guttural tongue and the clanging of chainmail heralded yet more.

Her ponies had a lot of bolts though.

“Fire!”

---

Canterlot, Equestria

“Huntsmarchall Granite was able to fend off the sappers” declared Celestia, lowering the scroll. “They had to sally out to take the tunnel before the miners could collapse it and lost a number of rangers along the way. Granite was wounded in the final moments but continues to lead the defence of the city.”

Markus nodded along, commenting without looking up from the scroll. “A commendable effort.”

“Indeed” echoed Bella Noctis.

“Stalliongrad is holding well. I see no reason to expend resources on them, in any case the train route lies well within a reasonable distance of the allies’ forces, a risky proposition. Of course they have my congratulations on holding so well thus far.” Shining Armor added the last part hurriedly with a sheepish smile and blush.

Comments of agreement passed around the chamber with Celestia clearing her throat to call for attention.

“Moving on then the second scroll has a report courtesy of Sergeant Whirlind over in Trottingham. I would like to preface this with the comment that there is not much we can do for the ponies of Trottingham at this moment. Manehattan is out of action as the griffon fleet remains there and getting ships from the other ports is risky, griffons own the sea and the land that way. However they are our forces and their experience provides us with insight for the enemy’s tactics.”

---

Trottingham, Equestria Minor

Sergeant Swift Wind was busy shouting his ponies into line. Word had come through that a pony they thought dead had in fact been captured; they had revealed the camp’s position.

Sentries had reported a large incoming griffon force twenty minutes ago. Swift was left feeling very glad that he used unicorn sentries who could relay messages in a blink of the eye, as opposed to pegasi who were much slower. The trade-off for relying on his best spell casters was apparent.

“Move your arses you useless sons of mothers!” When a couple of mares looked his way Swift silently cursed himself for forgetting he was no longer commanding stallions of the Royal Guard.

Their camp, nested deep within Shirewood Forest was rousing. The sound was frantic, voices were sharp, tempers were frayed and the sound of clanging armour provided a heavy backdrop of sound to the giant towering trees of Shirewood.

The ponies of the resistance were turning into an effective military force. It took just five minutes for all three hundred to assemble in most of their armour. Their success had earned greater numbers over time, enough to replace the casualties they had sustained.

Now though Swift Wind was faced with an awful dilemma. The griffon force was apparently at least eight hundred strong and closing fast. His defences were good but nothing like capable of holding against so many foes.

“Commanders!” he yelled in his perfect parade ground voice. “To me!”

Ten soldiers marched forward, their faces set and grim. He beckoned them away from the lines of ponies to talk with them without being overheard. There were three Royal Guard sergeants and seven militiaponies, they were the leaders of his forces and counted among them Sergeant Whirlwind and Bright Blossom.

“I’ll be quick as we don’t have much time lads, and lasses. We don’t ‘ave long, only way were getting any of us out of here is with the traps and a rearguard. From the outset I promised I would look after you all, you are all my little ponies.”

“What are you saying Swift?” asked Whirlwind, eyebrow cocked and a worried tremor to his voice.

“These are my traps mate, my plans and my command. The rearguard has to engage the enemy, only way to draw them in, to buy you time. It was always the plan, only way to get hundreds of ground bound ponies out and away from flying griffons. It was never gonna be easy mate.” Swift gave a sad sigh and fixed his friend with a resigned look.

“Come on Swift, you’re in charge here, you can’t go throwing away your life in the rear-guard.”

“Aye, I know. But I promised I would look after you all and I’m best placed for this. I’m sorry Whirl, this is how it is. But I can’t do I alone.”

One of the militia hesitantly stepped forward, his whiny betraying his nerves. An earth pony, he wore custom plate mail, one of the few who had arrived with competent equipment. “Sergeant, what are you asking of us?”

“I need sixty ponies, armed with spears, race is irrelevant. Yes it’s a fifth of our numbers but it’s better than losing two thirds. We need ten of these for firing the mesh nets and to spray and ignite the oil, the rest are the distraction force.”

A pained silence met his request, ‘all this because one pony, by chance, survived when he should have died and we are all undone.’

“Ok, alright. If this is how we survive.” Whirlwind tapped the ground with his hoof, his ears were wilted and the burden hung over him like a pall. It hurt Swift to see his friend like that, but much more so his thoughts rested with his only family, Forlorn.

A pain welled up in his chest, crippling sadness. He quickly dismissed his commanders while they went about the task of gathering volunteers. Retiring to his tent with a burst from his wings he dropped to the ground unceremoniously. It was all he could do to keep his composure. After Her, something inside him had broken, his son had killed her, though through no fault of his own. That pain had stuck with him; Forlorn’s face a constant reminder of the love he had lost. The shame he felt over that association haunted him and while he loved his son undoubtedly and admired all that he had accomplished Swift just could not shirk the demons he held.

Picking up a piece of parchment and taking a quill in his mouth he began to scrawl across the paper. Tears caught his eyes, falling with a wet thud on the bottom of the parchment. With steady breaths he took control of himself and sealed the scroll.

The rustle behind him caused him to twirl around, anger at his disturbance swelling within. But when Bright Blossom’s piercing eyes peered in the rage broke.

Her ears lay flat across her head and they seemed to share the same resigned sadness that he felt.

“Swift . . .” she began, words catching in her mouth. She had to swallow before continuing. “May I come in?” Those pearly blue eyes had a desperate look and Swift nodded out of both curiosity and compassion.

“What’s the problem?” he asked quietly, he was very aware that the hair beneath his eyes had become matted; she seemed to be sharing that particular problem.

“I, I’m staying with the rearguard Swift.” It was a statement, not a request but Swift was roused to disagree anyway.

“No, you’re surviving this Blossom, you’re a good mare and I think the resistance could use you. No need to die here with me.”

She walked up to him sullenly, her head hung low. Without asking she sat down beside him, closer than he had been accustomed to for a very long time. When she spoke she did not look up, just shaking and staring into her hoof, tracing the patch line from her coat with the other hoof. “Yes there is.” Raising her head seemed to draw immeasurable effort, her pretty features looking pained as she looked up at him.

“Oh . . .”

Tentatively she placed a hoof on his fore leg, curling around it and holding on with a fierce desperation.

Swift panicked at the touch, at the feeling he thought he had lost forever.

“Blossom you know about . . .”

“Yes, I know. But we’re about to die right? I’ve seen what you planned, I, we’re not walking away from this. I know I’m not her, but I couldn’t say goodbye without, you know, saying.” She rested her head on his shoulder.

Compelled, by what he could not rightly say, he extended a hoof and wrapped it around her back.

“We don’t have long” she muttered. Swift could not look away from her azure eyes, they sparkled under the welling tears, another pain added to his mounting ache.

“Blossom . . .” he lifted her head, staring back softly and offering a faint smile. She reciprocated meekly.

Leaning down, Swift planted a soft kiss on the mare’s lips.

---

Swift stood in the centre of a small circle of ponies, fifty of them with spears pointed to the sky.

“Right then ponies, this is it. You’ve all proven your worth today, proven your commitment to your friends, your family and your country. What we do today will echo across the world. I also have to apologise. I promised to protect you and for those of us who will live through today, those who just made their escape that holds true, but not for us and that is why I stand with you now. I owe you my life and I hope you accept it as payment.” Murmurs of assent and the sound of ponies saluting greeted his plea, buoying his spirits.

They waited then, their ranks closed and Swift stood in the centre with Blossom standing defiantly beside him. The grim vigil lasted for minutes before eventually the buzzing of hundreds of wings began to reverberate around the forest. It took so long for the griffons to come into sight that the incessant sound was putting Swift on edge. Then through the canopy the sight of hundreds of glimmering, armoured griffons was revealed, hovering above them.

His ponies assigned to spring the trap were clad in a specialised suit, crafted with foliage and camouflage to break up their outline and hide them from sight.

A piercing squawk rang out and then, like the wail of a banshee, hundreds of griffons cried for war. They plunged downwards, hundreds of them streaming through the branches in a furious charge. The spray of oil barely bothered them and for those who noticed they did not care, it was merely a haze. The griffons had the whereabouts to hold a reserve of a hundred griffons but for the rest, some seven hundred, they all plunged through the tree canopy, crashing into the embattled ponies.

Braced spears met the fury of the griffons and the din of battle crashed into life, the mesh would follow shortly, once the ponies had bought the moment. Then came the fire.

---

Canterlot, Equestria

“Sergeant Swift Wind’s death and that of his rear-guard, a full sixty ponies, is a terrible tragedy. Their sacrifice bought the lives of over two hundred of the resistance and stole well over six hundred of the enemy. They will all be awarded the Order of the Moon, for death in battle.” Celestia visibly deflated before the five council members. With muted tones she continued, laying down the scroll with her magic. “I haven’t awarded that many for almost a thousand years.”

It was a solemn moment, one even the humans observed despite their own acquaintance with such losses.

“I have a scroll from Swift Wind, it’s for his son.” Celestia levitated the paper over to Markus, offering a grim nod. “I understand Captain von Grunberg has become close friends with Forlorn, it would be better coming from him.”

Markus took the scroll, reverently stashing it away. “Of course. You have my condolences and the fallen have my respect and prayers, a heroic sacrifice.”

The dour mood persisted for the rest of the council session as they went over the rest of the day’s issues. After lengthy discussion it was resolved to send a portion of their forces to attack the allies’ supply lines and harass their forces. It was designed to slow down the enemy and buy more time while the rest of the army made their move. The decision had been made, after Shining Armor’s briefing, to take the army north of the capital to head the allies off at Galloping Gorge.

Drawing a protracted siege was impossible; Canterlot had none of the necessary defences or provisions and to Markus’ disdain the agreement was reached to take the fight to the enemy. Galloping Gorge was chosen as the perfect point to match the enemy. The ground was hard and those tunnels beneath were heavily infested with quarray eels. Using the gorge’s cliff face as an anchor on the right would prevent flanking for the REA’s smaller force. Like its partner, the Ghastly Gorge, to the south the natural features made it a formidable scar in the landscape. It did not solve the problem of Hoofington but they would hopefully be close enough to draw the allies in.

After that they went over the logistics of moving tens of thousands of ponies, their equipment and provisions the many miles north. It was a long and boring affair and come the end all were well set to depart for food.

As the generals and the humans filed out Luna laid a hoof on her sister’s back and gestured to Celestia to stay. With a perplexed glance the older princess nodded and waved Bella and Shining on once they turned. A blue glow wrapped around the door and closed it silently.

Luna spoke in quiet tones; it was a sensitive issue which she wished to broach.

“Sister, since my acceptance back in the world I have had much time to acclimatise myself. While I am grateful for how you have led Equestria I fear that we are not achieving our potential.”

“And what are you trying to get at Luna?” replied Celestia, her expression was even, portraying no emotion past attentiveness.

“I’m saying the world is changing, I have only been here little over a year and yet the signs are evident. We have enemies now, an army, by the moon there are aliens fighting beside us and they have gods, actual gods who empower them. Now foreign gods trespass in our world, they have killed our ponies, they corrupted Discord! The world is not like it was before Celestia, I’d like to ask you to raise the advancement embargo.”

Celestia could only sigh, sitting down where she was and running a hoof across her muzzle. “Luna, I do not know. More and more I doubt myself, after all that has happened and the mounting threats I know that I cannot do this alone. It is why I have set so much store in the bearers, embraced you as a diarch. I have looked after my little ponies and they have grown into a nation which embodies compassion and kindness, to let go and to allow them to take Equestria where I cannot control it unnerves me sister, because that is what will happen. I do not want my ponies to end up like the bears of Borgravia , ruled by businesses and corporations only concerned with profit. But then this is a position born of one thousand years of control, I have faith in my ponies, that the principles of compassion and friendship will persevere. Already I make the concession that our isolation has alienated us from the world, what is it that you want Luna?”

“I want the REA to become permanent. I want the laws constraining technology and magic lifted. I want our reputation to become truly admirable across the world. You know that our enemies use our race as an insult? That a griffon or dog that is considered weak is said to have the mind of a pony, bereft of ambition, of strength. Celestia we are the most prosperous nation in the world, we have the lowest corruption and the only reason our exports are not dominating the world’s markets is because we have allowed it to be so. The three races are the embodiment of earth, sky and magic it is our very nature to control the elements and yet we meander onwards, we could be so much more sister.”

“Ok.”

Luna mouth dropped open in a matter not befitting a princess. With a stammer she fixed her sister with a shocked expression. “Really? I expected an argument sister, thank you.”

“Do not misunderstand me Luna, it is not something I relish. However the world has changed. It has become more brutal and we have become complacent. The threat of these Chaos Gods poses a problem beyond what you and I can comprehend, we will need ministries, agents, troops and the equipment to stand up to the worst of these gods machinations. But first, we have to survive this war.”

“Agreed, thank you sister.” Luna gave her sister an affectionate nuzzle, she made to walk to the door but the brush of Celestia’s wingtips caused her to turn.

“This is a diarchy Luna, your opinion is worth as much as mine, no need to ask permission just agreement.”

“Thank you sister, I love you.” With a heartfelt hug the pair left the war room.

---

Pieter felt horrible. The scroll he held being the source of his consternation. Markus had passed it on to him shortly after returning from the council along with his orders. Forlorn had taken the loss of his ponies hard; Pieter could only imagine what his father’s death meant to him. Pieter was accustomed to death, he had strayed too close to Morr’s embrace on many occasions, he had lost men under his command, many men and more than this he had lost friends. This though was different, it was empathy. Pieter did not know much of Sergeant Swift Wind, save for being an apparently legendary guard and his achievements which in credit matched the stories. He wished he could have met him, Swift had gone down taking hundreds of the enemy, all to save the lives of his command, Sigmar would be proud.

However Forlorn was not a Sigmarite.

His presence in the Ponyville/Canterbury lines drew attention, although the old stares and murmurs of wonder were gone, replaced with tentative glances and worried brows. Ponies may be idealistic and prone to optimism but they knew when something was wrong. From the corner of Pieter’s eye he caught Big Macintosh, Derpy and Roseluck all watching him with five of their six eyes, Derpy having still worn her eyepatch ever since that day in Ponyville all those weeks ago.

“Hey, Captain von Grunberg, what’s up?!” called one pony with a mellow yellow coat and bubbly attitude to match, he had a name related to confectionary or something as far as Pieter could recall.

“Orders soldier, they do not concern you yet.” It was not in fact a lie, Pieter had orders to accompany the scroll, something to distract Forlorn and where Pieter could accompany him.

Forlorn’s tent loomed ahead, the flag of the Royal Guard marking it out amongst the sea of bland white tents. The weather matched the atmosphere, a darkened sky began to herald rain, it plinked off his armour softly as he approached the door flap.

“Forlorn, are you in my friend?” called Pieter. Keeping his voice level was easy enough, he had the practice. Nevertheless he knew his voice sounded subdued, not its normal carefree self.

“Aye, come in mate.”

Pieter stepped in under the open flap, it was a crouch to fit but Pieter did not show his discomfort. Forlorn was revealed in the tent, he sat at a desk, mostly barren, with a mug of tea resting on it, the tell-tale vapours and faint aroma reaching Pieter the moment he entered. He wore his war barding, a habit he picked up from Pieter and the other Empire soldiers although truth be told Pieter was admittedly lax in that regard at times.

“How goes things?” asked Pieter, walking up to the stallion and taking a seat on the bed to Forlorn’s right.

“Not bad mate. The legions are coming along well and I finally closed the book on requisition orders so we’re officially combat ready. Think it’ll be a while before these ponies are true soldiers though, they’re a bit green as you would say.” Forlorn seemed engrossed in a book, the title was unreadable at Pieter’s angle but there were other matters to attend to.

Reaching out with a tentative hand he placed a finger atop the tome and pulled it downwards, drawing Forlorn’s eye.

“Forlorn, I have news.” His tone was dull, boorish even, but the words caught in his mouth before he could continue

Sparing him a perplexed glance Forlorn set down his book behind a small mound of neat paperwork set in a binder and tuned to face the human. “What’s wrong Pieter?” he asked.

Pieter had no desire to beat about the bush with his friend; no amount of stalling or sugar-coating could hope to dull the blow. “Your father’s forces were ambushed in the Shirewood Forest, I’m sorry Forlorn, he died fighting in the rear-guard.” As if to provide evidence he nervously tapped the scroll with the report on his leather vambrace.

“No.” It came out almost as a whisper. Forlorn’s face went pale, his breathing quickly turning rapid and ears wilting, falling flat back against his head. Only the solid backed chair held him in his seat as the shocked Pegasus swayed on the spot. “No, no, no Pieter, not dad, dad can’t die.”

Proffering the scroll, Pieter placed a hand on his friends trembling hoof. “He laid a trap, his rear-guard were the bait. They died to save the resistance and cripple the invaders. It is true my friend, I wish it was not but he is gone.”

With a feeble gasp the pegasus took the scroll in his free hoof, peeling it open with his wings and staring in horror at the contents. It fell from his grasp and all Forlorn could do was stare despondently at the piece of parchment lying on the floor.

“I, he’s really?”

Pieter matched the aggrieved eyes of his friend, offering just a solemn nod. Forlorn responded with a choked gasp, holding a hoof to his gaping mouth. Spurred by his despair he started to his feet and began pacing around the tent. It was not hard to spot the droplets of tears falling from his face, but it was to watch.

It took some time to calm the grief stricken pegasus, and even more so to get Forlorn to talk to Pieter coherently.

“I never thought my dad would die. He, he just had this aura of inevitability around him, like the princesses. I thought nothing could ever happen to him.”

It quickly became apparent that Pieter was not cut out for this. He had never had to deal with such a personal moment before, at least not someone else’s. For him there was comfort in knowing the dead feasted in Sigmar’s halls, that they had died fighting for his glory and with pride, however terrified they may have been when Morr’s embrace came. Forlorn and his kind did not hold those beliefs though, here there was just sorrow and loss.

“Death comes for us all Forlorn. Your father, Swift, I may not have known him but through the reports I learned of him. I wish I could have met him with you; he seemed like a great soldier and a selfless person.”

“He was. Best soldier I knew, nopony ever let me forget. By Luna, I got told the stories through training, through the officer corps, anypony who worked in the Guard knew his deeds and felt compelled to tell me. It’s almost as if they thought I should know who my father was.” His snort of laughter was hollow and derisive. “Truth is he told me, he used those lessons he learned to teach me. Always teaching me, grooming me to succeed where he had, and where he had failed. It always felt like he was my CO rather than my father. His life lessons were about the weak point on a sea serpent, how to read an opponent’s eyes and the importance of equipment maintenance. I, I was never taught how to play football, how foals are made . . . . I had to figure that out myself.”

“My father was the same” answered Pieter. “He was a famous general of his age, he wanted the same in me. Father pushed me, always harder, to become an officer worthy of his lineage. He was never prouder than when I told him Father Holstein wanted me in his retinue, that one of the most powerful figures in the country wanted me above so many others. I think I can see that in your father, the rest of life’s lessons came from my mother and my friends.”

“But I never knew my mum; I never made any real friends. I’m just alone now.” Forlorn’s voice did not crack or waver, it just held a sad resignation to it far worse than a cry of scream.

It caused something to start in Pieter’s chest, a sense of defiance likened to that of courage, the kind found on the battlefield. “No, my friend, you are not alone. Have all we done together counted for nought? The Bearers count you as their friend, Rainbow Dash practically idealises you after all you have done and then there is Roseluck; I may jest at times but there is something there, you know it to be true. Moreover the entire country stands with you! No other soldier has had the honourable mentions you have in this war, you are the defiance of the common pony and whether you know it or not this country needs you. You are not alone my friend, just at a loss.” With a sense of purpose and compassion unusual to Pieter he gave his friend a hug with a firm pat on the back.

“Thanks.” It was about all Forlorn could manage in the situation past returning embrace.

“My friend, I have one question for you. One that I have to ask you, in light of our orders. . . . Do you think you are ready to join me on campaign?”

“Now?” spluttered Forlorn in shock, pulling back and fixing Pieter with a startled look.

“Tomorrow, as the REA advances I have orders for you and me, to take half a legion, with some of my men, to attack the enemy’s supply lines. We can take the fight to the bastards responsible Forlorn, however Celestia asked for your consent. You can decline if you need more time my friend.”

Forlorn’s immediate shake of his head brought a smile to the man’s face and the pair shared an ominous, knowing grin, revenge was on the cards.

The pony’s face broke though as the thought of gathering such a force came into his mind. “There’s so much to prepare; chariots, weapons, food. I, I’ll have to start right away . . .”

“No you will not. Provisions have already been set in motion; you have no other duties today by order of the princesses. We have all day my friend, so tell me, I would like to hear more about your father.” Pieter pulled out a flask from under his shirt, handing it to his friend who gratefully received it.

Author's Note:

This took me an uncomfortably long time to write. Work, holidays and such have got in the way but I also completely deviated from the plan which required a rethink. Did not realise writing a character's death was so hard, how G.R.R Martin does it i'll never know. Anyway thanks for sticking with me and i hope you enjoyed it so far.

Comments

[ArcaneVisions]

It is advancing...wonder how the are going to win.

[Evowizard25]

Love this so far and I think you did a great job on the death scene.
Equestria's in dire straights, but they'll pull through. The foul forces of chaos are no match for the fires of friendship. Let them burn in their weakness they call power. THE SISTERS ETERNAL!

[kpatkoch]

i do rather love this story

[Maksvel]

Equestria wins. Marcus performs a great divine miracle in battle. The princess sisters open a portal and bring the people back. People are caught and burned because in the world of chaos they have become insane. In Equestria, a cult of the warrior-protector god is formed. The cult is taking over Equestria, and Princess Twilight is supporting them. The army and combat technologies are being built up. Ponies destroy all other races.

[Maksvel]

The author does not thank me, I finished it for you.